


R.M.S Apollo

by dana_ohara



Category: 1960s Music Scene RPF, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Depression, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:16:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dana_ohara/pseuds/dana_ohara
Summary: December 31th, 1899, a day of which the luxury ship the R.M.S Apollo was sent away on her maiden voyage. Two young men, highly decorated naval officer George Harrison and French/English postmaster Bryan Jones.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this short story will be using old fashioned writing and vocabulary, such as gay meaning happy and other things along the lines of such! this also deals with sensitive topics like death, suicide and depression so if you are sensitive to that, i highly suggest you avoid this!

It was December 31st, 1899 with the day cold, cold for a December day with snow capping every inch of ground around the Albert Docks in Liverpool as the boarding of a grand ship began. A new century was about to roll around, the dawn of a new era and a new start for the people living on earth at the time. That ship was called the R.M.S Apollo.

Just a month before that ship was going to be set for her maiden voyage, another ship had crashed violently in such a manner that all cargo was destroyed and the crewmen and passengers all suffered horrible fates.

That ship was the F.S Witchcraft, built as a French mailing ship. Since that ship suffered the fate it did, the R.M.S Apollo was to replace that ship while carrying passengers in luxury at the same time. Many French citizens boarded the ship, including French/English postmaster Louis Bryan Hopkin Jones.

As everyone began to board the ship, Bryan had to take a detour to pick up someone else along the way that had contacted the carriage driver before they initially left. That man was George Harrison, a military officer for the Royal British Army and he too was boarding the ship to go to Canada on a military related business trip.

George watched the carriage pulled up as he stood outside the inner city's registration office to get his documents verified, the driver stepping down to open the door for him. He bowed his head a bit, walking up and looking over at him.

"Thank you very much." He flashed him a small smile and stepped inside, taking a seat on the other side of a man with a golden flaxen blonde halo of hair which was much longer than men of the period. That caught George's eye, as he had quite a striking appearance even though he had yet to see his face as the man was silently writing in a tattered burgundy spiral notebook.

"Hello, young man." George spoke up to the man, seeing him jump a bit as he likely had tuned out before the carriage had even arrived.

"O-Oh-! E-Er, greetings sir!" Bryan's eyes widened when he saw the highly decorated and renowned Naval Officer, his mouth being left agape for a brief moment. "S-Sir George Harrison of Liverpool...I am simply baffled to be in the presence of someone as great as you!"

George chuckled at his light accent, most certainly French though he could not quite put a finger on where.

"That is indeed me, though I would much rather you address me as George. You see, sir is so formal and you are not one of my underlings. Might I ask where you are from and perhaps your occupation?"

"Alright, si- George...I come from Nice, a town in France. I am a postmaster for our postal service, actually the biggest one in my country. Oh! I have not introduced myself!" He exclaimed, tossing everything he'd taken out back in his satchel and gently dipping his head forward as to bow before holding his hand out for a handshake. "I am Louis Bryan Hopkin Jones, but I go by Bryan Jones."

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Postmaster Bryan Jones." A smile curled upon the man with deep brown hair, reaching his hand out and firmly shaking it. Bryan laughed and did so as well before pulling away, looking out the window.

"What a lovely day to sail out upon the vast open sea...you must have been on many ships, is this your first time as a citizen instead of an officer?"

"It is indeed, unfortunately I am not getting a vacation. I am going to Canada to help out some military lads get everything in order."

"Oh ho ho, that sounds like an adventure. They needed me to transport and sort out the mail on the ship since I speak and understand English and French."

"Lucky you, I can only speak English and some French and German." George laughed and shrugged, glancing out to see the docks in view along with the grand ship he would be boarding. "Huh...I did not realise how long we have been conversing..."

"Well I hope to be seeing you on the ship when I am not so busy! I get a two hour break and get off at around five at night." Bryan waved his hand, scooting to the edge of his seat as they pulled up.

"Of course, actually, may I see that notebook you had?" He tilted his head to the side and pointed to his satchel, getting a quick nod as he took it back out along with a pencil and handing it to him.

Once he had it, he flipped to a clean page and scribbled down his cabin number and his name before handing it back.

"That is where I am staying, so you can visit me if you would like."

Bryan looked at it before slowly lifting his gaze to meet his, a small smile forming. "Oh thank you sir- Ah, pardon me, George..."

"It's no problem." He nodded as the door to the carriage opened, George tipping the driver handsomely for both of them. Bryan rushed past him, getting his wide brimmed hat on and getting up the elevated bridge before showing his boarding pass; tipping his hat and entering.

George just walked past them with his hands in his pockets, the steward recognising him and allowing him to go inside. 

 

At the time of 09:00 hours, the ship let out a loud steam horn as it departed from the docks with people swarming the deck to bid farewell to their Liverpuddlian ship builders and clustered family to watch the ship depart but George wasn't on the deck nor was Bryan.

Rather Bryan was at the bottom of the ship, sorting out letters to their proper files and such so they wouldn't get lost and George was in his cabin writing a journal entry.

He couldn't care less about bidding farewell to anyone, he was on business, not there to have fun. As for the blonde haired man, he was there solely for work and that's what he enjoyed.

The captain, Sebastian Abott Lyli, was on his first voyage as a captain being only thirty three years old. He was a renowned sailor so many people trusted him, but George didn't.

He'd had the chance to be a captain instead of a commander, but he never took it due to the fact he would have so many people's lives in his hands and one wrong turn would put it at risk. George could not handle that. 

 

The time was 18:43 and George finished his supper in the dining room, opting to take his leave to the library and smoking room to spend the rest of his evening. Upon arriving at the library, he noticed a very familiar face wandering about the book lined shelves but with something he'd never noticed before. A cane, a snow white cane with a round emblem on the top with the center of it being something George could only assume was a Saint Bridget's Cross. In putting two and two together, he was Catholic and was possibly crippled or had weak bones. Usually he saw very tall people with canes, but that man couldn't have been taller than 167 centimeters so that just didn't make much sense to him.

Amidst his deep thoughts, what drew him out of it was a familiar Frenchman waving his hand in front of his face.

"George? Are you alright?" Bryan looked up at him, an expression of worry being visible on his soft features.

"Ah, yes yes, I am alright. Pardon me for becoming so adrift, quite rude of me." George pursed his lips tightly, running a hand through his slicked hair.

"Oh no no no, it is alright sir! I actually was looking about for you but a steward said you had been busy so I did not want to be a bother."

"What were you looking after, now?" He quirked an eyebrow, sliding his hands back into his pockets as the man with his golden halo of hair seemed to become a bit reticent.

"I...wanted to know if you could care to join me in my cabin for the night, or your's if you would rather. I am not fond of spending nights on my own."

"Why would I say no to such an intriguing offer?" George let out a gruntled chuckled, Bryan's face lighting up when he spoke that sentence.

"Thank you so much sir!" He exclaimed, immediately throwing his arms around him hugging him tight. Until he realised what he did, pulling away quickly and stumbling slightly but his cane was there to steady him. "P-Pardon me..."

George was going to tell him to call him by his real name again, but just smiled and nodded. For a moment, he hugged back and allowed him to pull away before lightly patting his head.

"No need to apologise, I shall meet you at a quarter to nine sharp outside my cabin and you had ought to be there." The brunette man lightly nudged his arm, still with a smile plastered on his face. There was such an odd feeling welling up inside of him around that man, one he'd only ever felt for his late wife. He felt light and happy, seeing him smile and look down in such a bashful manner.

"I shall be there, I promise!" Bryan bowed a bit and took a few steps back. "I will see you there." He showed him a gentle smile before turning away, disappearing down the aisles of books and people. George turned his back to the room, letting out a content sigh as he walked out of the room. 

 

When it turned 20:45 sharp, George took a seat on the bench that rested between cabin numbers 206 and 207 with a cigarette limply hanging from his lips as he awaited his newfound friend of whom was gradually turning into the object of his admiration and interest.

While he waited, he had his journal out and was writing what he usually did. Bryan was a muse of sorts, as the last three poems George had written were all based around him. It was a very gay situation for him, he was so pleased in meeting this French man that he was the happiest he had been in years since his wife was murdered.

Then sound of an odd pattern of footsteps against the hard cherry wooden floors, which caught his attention. When he looked over at who it was, it was a visibly drunken Bryan of whom was stumbling absolutely everywhere before even making it to the bench he was at. The smell of absinthe filled his nose when the man took a seat beside him, practically collapsing against him.

"S...Sorry for being...en retard..." He reverted back to his native tongue at the end of his speech, being way too drunk to form a perfect sentence.

"Oh, uh, that is just fine...let me help you up, love." George slowly stood and reached an arm around his waist, tugging him up in a standing position before using his other arm to lift his legs up so he was holding him bridal style.

Bryan groaned but didn't protest, yawning with the smell of spirits still heavy on his breath as he rested his head against the man's chest. George had to fumble with the door, managing to unlock it just by rattling the door and shuffling inside.

Once he'd set him down on the bed, he looked around awkwardly as he wasn't very sure what to do now that he was drunk as he hadn't expected him to be as such. The only thing he thought to do was to wind up the phonograph and get a nice classical record going for the both of them, so he did just that.

George finished winding it up and let the record begin, humming along as he walked back over to the bed.

"Okay, dear boy, you must have had a few too much of their absinthe supply." He spoke with a small smile twitching on his lips, taking out a cigarette case and taking two out.

Bryan groaned and sat up, his cheeks flushed as he took a cigarette from him and allowed him to light it up.

"Been so long since I got a smoke..." He exhaled a long breath of smoke, leaning against the headboard as he sucked down the opium tainted cigarette. George lit his and took a deep drag from it, tapping the end off in the bedside ashtray.

"I thought the French smoked quite frequently, you must be a rare breed." The man chuckled as he put it back to his lips.

"My former beau turned me upon it, then also got me out of it." Bryan smiled a bit at the hazy memory, totally unaware that he just admitted to a homosexual relationship from the past that could land him directly in prison.

There was a brief moment of silence once he realised what he just said, letting out a shaky breath and hanging his head still with the cigarette between his fingers.

George shifted closer and placed a hand on his knee, lightly massaging it with the tips of his fingers.

"I hope that man was kind to you, but...are you perhaps, looking for another relationship? I do not mean to be so forward, but I am not very experienced in courting very pretty men or any men for that matter."

Bryan slowly looked at him, lightly glazed eyes widened at his response to such a taboo sentence.

"G-George, you are joking about with me, right?" He asked, almost in a disgusted tone of voice, thinking he was truly messing about in a cruel and mean manner.

"Bryan, I would not be saying that if I were kidding. What can I do as a testament of my validity." George looked directly into his eyes, keeping his hand rested where it was. "Your eyes tell me how eager you are to meet someone like you once again, my darling boy."

He swallowed thickly, his teeth chattering against one another as he grew shaky at the fact he could truly not be lying.

"Kiss me." Was all he could muster up the courage to say, that being the first thing to pop into his mind.

George didn't hesitate for a moment, stubbing his cigarette and placing his now free hand on his waist before overtaking his lips. The kiss was short and sweet, it had to be, if anyone walked in to see such a thing they would be arrested immediately.

When he pulled away, Bryan choked up and practically threw himself into George with his arms wrapping tightly around him. The man cracked a smile as he did so, holding him and running a hand through his feathery golden hair.

"Vous allez être très bien, mon garçon d'or." George spoke the little French he knew, which caused a sob to erupt from him as he hugged tighter. The man trailed his hand up to rest on his chin and tilt it up a tad, staring down into his slightly reddened eyes with lips parting ever so slightly just to speak. "May I?"

Not a moment was spared as Bryan tugged him down in such a manner he was then hovering above them with lips molded together perfectly. George's hand pulled away with his arm resting above his head, this kiss lasting longer than the last but was prematurely ended upon a sharp steer of the boat which had knocked the man onto the wooden floor.

"God damn bloody ship..." He growled lowly under his breath and stood, swinging the door open with his companion rushing to his side as to follow him. When the two looked out over at the ocean with the moon's reflection illuminating the unknown, they noticed chunks of ice everywhere and ice on the deck.

A one point turn to the left and a slam of a door later, they found themselves in the captain's quarters.

"What on God's green earth do you think you are bloody doing driving this ship through the most rugged bleeding terrain possible?!" George raised his voice at the tall black haired man, of whom looked quite afraid of him.

"This is the course, we'll be just fine Sir."

"You had better be incredibly sure, Captain, or I shall make sure your higher up knows you put the ship and passengers in a potentially deadly situation."

Captain Lyli shakily swallowed the concrete lump in his throat, bowing his head a bit.

"My sincerest apologies, sir."

"Mhm..." George shook his head and turned, walking out with his loyal boy following. The two entered back into his cabin and made a point of locking the door, shifting back over to the bed and climbed under the blankets.

"Get a bit of sleep, my dear, we shall speak in the morrow." He brushed his thumb against his cheek with a gentle kiss to the forehead.

"Okay...goodnight, sir..." The man murmured with a sleepy tone, shifting closer and yawning quietly. 

 

The floor woke George up, the cold floor pressing against his face as he struggled to get up. Bryan was rushing in and out of the room, wearing a heavy tweed blend suit of Payne's Grey and Taupe with a cap on. He took notice to how there were noises of people out on the deck, despite being on starboard and no where near it.

"Bryan, what is...going on?" The man slowly sat up, taking note of how there was no sunlight coming through but the boat taking another quite sharp turn which knocked him right against the wall. It was still night. Any traces of sleepiness left in him was knocked out with it, practically falling over himself to get out into the hallway.

The ship was tipping to the side with pieces of scrap metal floating adrift in the water on all sides he could see. Bryan wasn't there anymore, and he didn't have time to search for him. That ship was going to sink and he only had around an hour and a half to get anything he needs, get something warm on and get on one of those lifeboats.

George didn't take more than five minutes to get a suit on, a hat and a few of his priceless belongings before making out like a bat out of hell for the deck.

When he got to the front of the ship, it was swarming with people with children and women on the boats in a mass number which was going to be almost over capacity. Surprisingly, Bryan was helping people into the other boats, that's why he wasn't there.

Another steep shift which caused George's feet to slide dangerously close to the railing to where he almost fell clean off. He dug his heel into one of the raised pieces of wood, his ears beginning to ring from the shrieks leaving the terrified people.

Hefty footsteps shot right past him with yelling of an all too familiar man, pushing people about to get to one of the boats. Captain Lyli. George shot right through that crowd, having to snake through them just to get to where Bryan was.

"Bryan, Bryan!" He raised his voice and grabbed him by the arm, tugging him down beside him. "What in God's name are you doing?!"

"I have to help these people, this ship is going to sink!" Bryan shoved him away, visibly quite infuriated by his rude intervention.

"Look, if you are slain by this ship of all things, I simply could not bear it. If you listen to me, when we get into the city, I will buy you as many bottles of pop you want but I implore you to listen to me." George just about begged him, still with a rather tight, almost crippling grip on his arm.

Bryan stared at him, still very angry, ripping his arm away.

"You shall have to throw me over your shoulder and force me in that boat kicking and screaming, but you shall not stop me from saving people." He stated flatly, eyes narrowed as he turned and walked away from him. George's eyes were left widened, his fists clenched tightly as he watched him.

That had to be the worst time for that to happen, as pieces of the ship began to break off and the ship was sinking in from the center. The bow began to stick up into the sky, George making the choice of getting on one of those ships as he knew if he didn't, he was sure to meet an unfortunate fate. He jumped into the second to last lifeboat that remained, keeping an eye of Bryan. The last boat was about to be cut down into the ocean.

Until Captain Lyli forced himself inside, with two people falling off the boat when he did.

George didn't know what was going on or how the ship even sank, but most of all, how they were going to get back to England or America.

It was dead silent, only the noise of the ocean were heard. The living were quiet, for there was a dreadful air weighing down upon the area.

 

02:29 in the morning, that was when the noise of yelling and flares going off was overtaking the deathly silence of the wreckage. George got up and yelled back, waving his arm to gain attention.

The ship was the U.S Corenthal, and they were there after three distress calls were made by the stewards and captain. Sailors dropped down rope ladders to help them up.

That was when it became something of a blur to George, for once he got on the ship and was able to sit down and process what happened, he fainted and didn't wake up for the rest of the ship ride to the closet port in Newfoundland. 

 

George woke up to the smell of fresh food and the speaking of American men, he tuned in when they began talking about the Apollo.

"Did you hear what happened to that massive thing?"

"The whole thing collapsed in on itself! Cap said that over four hundred and fifty people died, the lot we had picked up were real lucky."

"Can you believe the captain lived? Apparently he shoved a few people off the life boat just to get on, very terrible."

"Do ya know who?"

"Some French fellow and two English women."

"Man oh man, I hope he shall be put on trial soon."

The man remained silent, a throbbing pain in his head as he managed to hit his head on the railing when the boat was cut down of which knocked him out immediately. A low groan left his lips as he made the useless attempt to sit up, one of the sailors helping him do so.

"Pardon me sir." The sailor spoke, pulling away.

"N-No no...you are alright..." George lowly spoke, looking around and reaching up to touch his bandaged head.

"What happened?"

"You must have taken quite the tumble, sir, you knocked your head up good and proper."

"...Bryan...Where is Bryan?"

"We never picked up a Bryan, but we are sending a search boat in fifteen minutes if you would like to join them."

"Yes, yes please...do tell them that I am a Naval Officer and that I can help them in their search."

"Will do, sir." He nodded and stood straight, calling over to the captain. George got up and looked around to see his briefcase under the bench he had been placed hours ago.

Another sailor walked over and handed him a coat, of which he put on and promptly left the ship. The boat that was being sent out to investigate was called the H.M.S Princess Anne, a ship George had been on frequently which was a sister ship to the S.S Terrace that had sunk the year previous the day George had gotten off of it.

Getting back out to the wreckage site was simple, but the sight of dead bodies was no easy task to swallow when it's put forth right in front of one's face.

One by one he brought up bodies and indexed them as nothing but descriptions and numbers, girls, boys, men and women. No one had been spared, no one aside from those lucky enough to make it onto the four lifeboats supplied.

It was difficult to write everything down, as he had to sift through their pockets, write down their clothes and what possessions were on them at the time of demise.

The hardest thing was yet to come, as a very familiar blonde headed person floating adrift caught his eye. Another sailor on the ship brought the body up, setting him down on a bench and leaving almost immediately.

George just stared with a dead blank expression plastered onto his face, hand that held a pencil shaking the longer his gaze was fixated. He swallowed back his sorrow and walked closer, writing down who he was, what he had on and what was on him. He had to, there wasn't room for grieving at a time like that.

The man slipped off the coat he had on, using the sleeve to dry his face and hair up, even if only a bit before draping it over his shoulders like a blanket. A single tear managed to free itself before slowly dripping down his face.

Looking at him, he didn't even appear to be deceased, golden hair that covered up his eyes with the expression of peace that was sealed on his face.

There was one blank left on the paper George was writing, Cause of death.

With a heavy heart, he quickly wrote down 'drowning', although he did it so fast that it looked almost like braille but still readable. 

 

A solid fifteen years passed after the incident, and ever since the ship wreck, George wasn't the same.

He retired early and moved from Liverpool and went to Acle, buying a country bungalow with three dogs to try and fill the void he had.

Nothing ever fixed it, he lived in a constant state of sorrow and never bothered to go out with friends or family. Gradually, he grew more and more distant, with the times changing while he never did. The man was stuck with that scene from 1899, replaying every time he went to bed and when he woke up, it never left him alone no matter how much he tried to get rid of it.

Absinthe and whiskey were what made him forget, even if for the briefest of moments. To look out of the window and hear a small voice coaxing him to jump out of it whenever he stayed in high rise hotels, all it did was bring him so far back. It was 1889 all over again, finding his wife with a bullet between the eyes. Ten years it took him to come to terms with it, only to have someone come into his life and be ripped right out of his arms for the second time.

Finally, in 1926, he couldn't deal with it anymore.

He took his automobile out to visit his daughter, Clementine, and her husband, Paul, enjoying the new dance craze the Charleston with them at a fancy little Jazz Club in North London. George said his goodbyes and well wishes to her, Paul and their son and daughter. Rather than him visiting his other daughter, Louise, her husband and her children, he send along a telegram for her as she simply lived much too far away.

Then, he drove out in front of a closed boutique and hummed the tune of the acetate record him and his golden boy were listening to last. His dark brown orbs trailed up to the sky, a smile ever so slightly curling on his lips.

"Hope you weren't too bored waiting for me, my dear." George gently spoke, withdrawing the long barreled revolver from his trouser pocket. The end of the barrel was pressed to his temple, with his head leaning back.

When he pulled the trigger, he was dead before he even realised it, then again.

He really wouldn't ever realise it.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you all enjoyed my first story here, i worked hard on it and i would love it if you lot left me some comments! i'm open to fixing stuff so don't be shy! thank you for reading it!


End file.
